


Unresolved Tensions

by WickedMusic96



Category: Ghostbusters (Comics), Ghostbusters (Movies 1984-1989)
Genre: Also based on prodding from my friends to write it, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-15
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-03-05 02:01:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13377768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WickedMusic96/pseuds/WickedMusic96
Summary: Peter Venkman has had just about enough of Walter Peck's attitude...





	1. Unresolved Tensions (Comedy Ending)

**Author's Note:**

> Crack fic based on the pairing of Walter Peck and Peter Venkman. These guys have serious UST vibes going on, and it's GREAT!

It had been years since Peter Venkman had played a practical joke on his boss.

 

Well, Ok, it had actually been a few days, but to Venkman, even _that_  seemed too long with too many missed opportunities for a chance to anger and annoy the petty businessman. It had been about 5 years since that fateful day when their paths had crossed at Peter’s office, and not once had Peck ever shown any other mood towards the man outside of a sneer, a sarcastic remark, or a threat to his job.

As aggravating as it was to hear him talk and lecture, Peter was at a loss. He would never be able to say anything that would top “Dickless” it seemed, as the insults and the comebacks seemed to bounce right off of his pressed suit. _If there was something I could do to really get his goat. To really piss him off…I think I’d be set for life…_

 

As if it was on cue, while Peter was thinking over a barrage of options to torment the man, Walter Peck stepped through the doors, briefcase and files in hand, scowl. plastered to his face. “Mr. Venkman, do you have _any_ idea on what _**these** _ files contain?! Other than your possible termination!” Peter didn’t even have to look up to tell that the man was sneering and smirking at the prospect of firing him from the Ghostbusters; something Peck seemed to have wanted to do since they had met. Peter stared at the man, leaning back in his chair, clasping his hands. “I wouldn’t have the faintest idea, Pecker…why don’t you explain it to me, in the greatest of details.”

That set him off a little, causing Peck to slam the file on the other mans desk, rattling a pencil holder. “For starters, the client tells me that you not only deliberately missed in trying to capture the spirit, instead breaking $700 worth of crystal and wine…” 

 

Peter had zoned out at this point, white noise replacing the voice of the man, and he stared off at him. He was too busy plotting what he could possibly do to make the man squirm. To make him realize that Peter was not a force to truly recon with, especially when he was being confronted over something that was decidedly not his fault. _How was I supposed to know that it would move around the area. They should’ve tried to clear it._

He stole a cursory glance at the clock. Peck had been ranting for well over ten minutes, and Peter hadn’t heard a damned word he’d said since he walked in. It was right about that time that he had gotten an idea. One that might top “Dickless.” One that might shut Walter Peck up once and for all.

“Are you even _listening_  to me, Venkman?! They are considering suing us for damages and you will be the one ta-” Peck was cut off when the scientist had stood up, and grabbed him by his tie. He figured that if Venkman was dumb enough to aim around a building to try and catch a slow moving spirit, he’d be dumb enough to try and punch him. 

 

Peck was hoping that it would have been a punch.

 

Instead, he was greeted with the man crashing his lips down upon his own, one hand firmly on his tie, the other holding Peck’s head in place. The businessman couldn’t even protest; he was too stunned to move, to stunned to even _blink._ Peter almost burst out laughing; the man looked more like a statue than a man. _Time to make this interesting…_ He licked over the other man’s lips, trying to get a reaction, tasting bitter coffee and possibly tomato, a weird combination, one that made Peter fully break the kiss to get the taste off his tongue. 

Peck still just stood there, eyes moving, but not blinking. Peter wasn’t even sure he had taken a breath. Peter reached out and poked him, half wondering if that would make him topple over. He didn’t budge.

 

“….WHAT THE HELL IS _WRONG_ WITH **_YOU_**?!” came the final response, after what must’ve been about 5 minutes of Peck just standing there, staring into space. He was bright red now, almost as red as his tie, veins protruding from his neck and forehead. It was the businessman’s turn to grab Peter by the collar, seething. “If you _ever_  tell anyone that you did that…if you ever _try_  to do anything like that ever again, I _will make sure you are_ **blackballed from here to DENVER!”**  With that, Peck had shoved him back, and stormed out, grumbling and slamming the door as he ran from the office. 

Peter chuckled to himself, sipping his soda. “Ohh, Wally…you messed with the wrong scientist…”


	2. Unresolved Tensions (Tragedy Ending)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter Venkman has had just about enough of Walter Peck's attitude...but, at what cost?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the tragic ending for this story. Pretty much the same thing except for the last paragraph or so. ...You might want to hug Peck afterwards.

It had been years since Peter Venkman had played a practical joke on his boss.

 

Well, Ok, it had actually been a few days, but to Venkman, even _that_ seemed too long with too many missed opportunities for a chance to anger and annoy the petty businessman. It had been about 5 years since that fateful day when their paths had crossed at Peter’s office, and not once had Peck ever shown any other mood towards the man outside of a sneer, a sarcastic remark, or a threat to his job.

As aggravating as it was to hear him talk and lecture, Peter was at a loss. He would never be able to say anything that would top “Dickless” it seemed, as the insults and the comebacks seemed to bounce right off of his pressed suit. _If there was something I could do to really get his goat. To really piss him off…I think I’d be set for life…_

 

As if it was on cue, while Peter was thinking over a barrage of options to torment the man, Walter Peck stepped through the doors, briefcase and files in hand, scowl. plastered to his face. “Mr. Venkman, do you have _any_ idea on what _**these** _ files contain?! Other than your possible termination!” Peter didn’t even have to look up to tell that the man was sneering and smirking at the prospect of firing him from the Ghostbusters; something Peck seemed to have wanted to do since they had met. Peter stared at the man, leaning back in his chair, clasping his hands. “I wouldn’t have the faintest idea, Pecker…why don’t you explain it to me, in the greatest of details.”

That set him off a little, causing Peck to slam the file on the other mans desk, rattling a pencil holder. “For starters, the client tells me that you not only deliberately missed in trying to capture the spirit, instead breaking $700 worth of crystal and wine…”

Peter had zoned out at this point, white noise replacing the voice of the man, and he stared off at him. He was too busy plotting what he could possibly do to make the man squirm. To make him realize that Peter was not a force to truly recon with, especially when he was being confronted over something that was decidedly not his fault. _How was I supposed to know that it would move around the area. They should’ve tried to clear it._

 

He stole a cursory glance at the clock. Peck had been ranting for well over ten minutes, and Peter hadn’t heard a damned word he’d said since he walked in. It was right about that time that he had gotten an idea. One that might top “Dickless.” One that might shut Walter Peck up once and for all.

“Are you even _listening_ to me, Venkman?! They are considering suing us for damages and you will be the one ta-” Peck was cut off when the scientist had stood up, and grabbed him by his tie. He figured that if Venkman was dumb enough to aim around a building to try and catch a slow moving spirit, he’d be dumb enough to try and punch him.

 

Peck was hoping that it would have been a punch.

 

Instead, he was greeted with the man crashing his lips down upon his own, one hand firmly on his tie, the other holding Peck’s head in place. The businessman couldn’t even protest; he was too stunned to move, to stunned to even _blink._ Peter almost burst out laughing; the man looked more like a statue than a man. _Time to make this interesting…_ He licked over the other man’s lips, trying to get a reaction, tasting bitter coffee and possibly tomato, a weird combination, one that made Peter fully break the kiss to get the taste off his tongue.

Peck still just stood there, eyes moving, but not blinking. Peter wasn’t even sure he had taken a breath. Peter reached out and poked him, half wondering if that would make him topple over. He didn’t budge.

 

“….” There was an odd sound that escaped the businessman’s throat. It sounded like a strained whimper, and Peter could see his face flush more. Something seemed wrong about it. It wasn’t an embarrassed or an angered flush. Coupled with the fact that the bearded man’s lip had began to tremble involuntarily, his hands slowly curling and uncurling from fists, shoulders slumping into a depression.

“…go to hell, Mr. Venkman…. _Go **straight** to hell…” _ Peck’s voice was nothing more than a whisper, and had Peter not been focusing on the man’s sudden demeanor, he would have missed it entirely. Peck shook, breathing stilted, as he turned on his heel, and stumbled out the door. Peter was in a daze- he had barely enough time to react to the sudden change, but he rushed to the window when the slamming of the door sprung him from his trance, looking out the window as he saw Peck slowly make it to his car.

 

If he had been able to make out the man from the distance he was at, he would have seen Walter Peck burst into heavy sobs when his car door had swung shut, beating his head gently against the steering wheel of his car, before pulling out into the midday traffic. 


End file.
